Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Vanuatu and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Bronski Beat show in Brixton.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Red Lorry Yellow Lorry to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by DNA. All the underground hits.
All Faraquet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Sheep record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Offenders,
the Slits,
Blancmange,
Malaria!,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Gang Gang Dance,
Young Marble Giants,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Byron Stingily,
Echospace,
The Martian,
The Star Department,
John Lydon,
Unwound,
Letta Mbulu,
Model 500,
Metal Thangz,
Hardrive,
Blake Baxter,
The Litter,
Oblivians,
Slave,
Sonic Youth,
Youth Brigade,
X-Ray Spex,
Black Sheep,
Black Flag,
Althea and Donna,
Negative Approach,
Crime,
Sam Rivers,
Harmonia,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Zapp,
Adolescents,
Avey Tare,
Fatback Band,
Ludus,
Roger Hodgson,
Public Image Ltd.,
Joe Finger,
The Motions,
The Modern Lovers,
Ten City,
Cluster,
Goldenarms,
Joey Negro,
K-Klass,
Piero Umiliani,
The Move,
The Young Rascals,
Todd Terry,
Grandmaster Flash,
La Düsseldorf,
Yellowson,
Archie Shepp,
Porter Ricks,
The Pop Group,
The Doobie Brothers,
Boz Scaggs, Boz Scaggs, Boz Scaggs, Boz Scaggs.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.